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The night was quiet, as it tended to be when Six and Mono where gods knows where. In the current moment Seven and Eight where sitting on their shared bed, a brush attempting to go through Eight’s hair.
“For the love of-“ Seven swore, still attempting to brush a particularly hard knot out of Eight’s hair.
The girl meanwhile was having a very hard time trying not to make some embarrassing noise. She always knew having her hair pulled didn’t get a normal reaction out of her. Eight always liked having it pulled if anything, she didn’t care if she was dragged by her hair as Six so often liked to do.
It didn’t hurt her like it should. It was even better when Seven did it, it felt good…
“This thing is like a nomes nest…” Seven mumbled, still trying (and failing) to run the brush through Eight’s hair.
He knew that she didn’t mind, he knew he could pull and tug on it. She didn’t seem to mind last time they did this either.
“Maybe put some water on it?” Eight suggested, Seven seemed to shut down that idea down fast.
“I don’t feel like getting up.” Well, it was more like he couldn’t get up. He could ask the sweater girl to move off his lap… but he didn’t feel like it.
A long while later of brushing and trying to detangle this knot goes by, Eight occasionally whimpering and Seven apologizing to her. Finally he got the knot out though.
“Do you want me to braid your hair?” Seven leans over, grabbing a rubber tie off the nightstand. It was something Eight had used to close a package, although that package was empty now so the band could be used for other things.
“You know how to do that?” Eight turned her body to look back at him. Seven’s face going a slight tint of pink.
“Yeah… read a book a while back.” He replied, forcing Eight to face away from him so he could start on the braid. Eight did remember finding a few books awhile back, maybe that’s how he learned this skill.
Slowly his hands start to move the sweater girls hair, the boy humming a gentle melody as he does so. It was soothing, Eight liked having Seven hands in her hair.
Although, sooner than the both of them would like, the braid is done. Eight getting off Seven’s lap and stretching.
“Guess I should start on dinner.” She sighs, the shackled boy getting up and following the girl to the kitchen area.
“Guess we should.”